Race Against Time

If I am you and you are me,
Something Seuss may have rhymed, and Rogers 
tried to share in time,
the grass is never greener. The right shoe
doesn’t fit the left foot. Distressed,
non-blessed, oppressed.
If you are me, I am you.
That I was shot down in Kharkiv,
that person was you sitting here free, or reverse
wading in an ocean on fire
in Hawaii. Then that person was here
warm, sipping tea. Pleased. Appeased.
If I am you and you are me.
If my house stays, your house goes; if your house stays,
my house goes. My cancer grows, your cancer remits;
my cancer rescinds your cancer relit. Your child is well,
my child is lost; your child falls down my child is found.
A circle profound. My money causes you harm, your
harm cost me money; your money buys me time, my time
causes you loss. Your indignation steals my value, my
value shames your worth. I curse. You swear. I dare you
you dare me. It’s not turning out to be -- We. Us.
I am not you. You are not me. A common ground then. 
Jesus. Democracy. Then who made all those damn guns
and bombs and Anthrax and coronavirus? And egos
that ban books, hide history and rule others’ bodies. You
were never me. I was never you, or she/her, they/them.
And on and on and on it goes. It must stop
on common ground, for you, for me. Peacefully.